


A Unique Form of Affection

by SilentWanderlust



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff, General Hux Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 21:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17332460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentWanderlust/pseuds/SilentWanderlust
Summary: Your love and devotion runs deep, but Armitage struggles to accept a unique form of affection.





	A Unique Form of Affection

“Sit,” You commanded, pointing towards an empty bar stool at the kitchen island. The food you’d prepared lay like an expertly crafted feast. Delicious smells permeated the suite. It caught in your apron and followed you as you moved through the space.

“Y/N,” Armitage sighed, shrugging off his greatcoat. “I can’t entertain you at the moment. I have to -”

You interrupted his diatribe by plunging into his arms. Stumbling back, he wrapped his hands around your waist to prevent you both tumbling to the floor. His coat slipped to the ground and you kicked it to the side.

Grabbing his shoulders, you pull him down for a desperate kiss. He grumbled into your lips, mourning his pristine uniform sullied with dirt and cat hair from the floor.

“Please just kiss me,” You tugged him towards the kitchen, grabbing him everywhere you could reach.

Pushing the stool out of the way, Armitage shoved you into the island, taking control of the kiss. The chilly surface tickled your skin as your shirt rode up from his hands on you.

“Now that I have your attention, I made you dinner,” You hummed as he kissed down your neck. He mumbled his agreement and continued to explore. “I want you to eat it. You don’t eat nearly enough.”

“What’s the point when I could have my wife instead?” He lifted you from the floor and placed you on the island. Stepping between your legs, he ran his hands under your skirt, up your thighs. The touch of his fingers sent shock-waves through your spine.

“Love,” You grabbed his neck to force his gaze. “Please.”

With a sign, he stepped away and held his hands wide, as if saying ‘impress me.’

You hopped from the island, landing hard on the floor, and ran to your shared room. Armitage watched as you rushed to the other side of the suite. The strings tying your apron on your back slipped from their knot and flew wildly around you as you ran. The other string securing your hair slipped from its place, letting your springy curls fall across your shoulders.

He cocked his head and leaned against the island. Crossing his legs and arms, he watched the door intently, considering everything he’d do to when when he could get you out of the apron.

With you arms behind your back, you hurried up to him.

Armitage leaned to the side, peeking around your arm. Evading, you bent down. He raised a brow and held out a hand, ready to accept whatever you would give him.

A massive bouquet of flowers hit his hands and dropped to the floor with a thud. Petals and greenery scattered across the floor and over his coat. The flattened flowers lay on the floor like the remnants of a long completed parade.  

“You purchased flowers?” Armitage poked the shattered bouquet with his boot. “For myself?” He wasn’t certain how he felt about his own money spent on frivolous items like flowers. They would die within days. What was the point?

“Yes,” You bent down to pull them from the floor, unperturbed. “Do you like them?”

“Are you well?” Armitage grazed the back of his hand against your warm forehead. “You are flushed.”  

Running his hand down your arm, he pushed his thumb into your pulse, checking for irregularities. Your heart only raced faster at his touch.

“Perfectly well,” You grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the kitchen.  “Put these in a vase and then _ sit _ .”   

“Ah,” Armitage pulled an over sized cup from the cupboard. He filled it with water and dropped the flowers wantonly into the vase. More excess greenery fell and coated the counter. He grimaced at the mess. “So this was all a ploy to get me to  _ sit _ .”

“No,” You grabbed the vase and placed it in the center of the island among the food. This man was insufferable at times. “It’s a ploy to get you to eat because you look like you’re starving.”

“You could not see me when you prepared this,” Armitage sat slowly at the island. “You had no means of knowing.”

“I’m your wife,” You waved a spoon at him. It frothing with boiling water. “I always know. You can’t hide a thing from me, Armitage.”

Dropping the spoon into the pot, the water splashed back.

“Crap,” You shook your singed finger. The boiling water slipped over the edge of the pot like an overflowing drain pipe. Sucking on your finger, you poured the rest of the water down the sink. Steam rose from the basin, stinging your skin again.

Armitage watched you fumble about the kitchen.

“You are aware that you should not touch hot objects?” Armitage asked. “Even Millicent knows that.” His face was unemotive but his eyes rang with mischief.

“Your cat is an unnatural force of nature,” You wiped your hands on a dishtowel and dropped it by the sink.

“It is my understanding that Millicent is fifty percent yours by marriage.”

“Yes,” You grabbed a slice of bread from the basket on the island and popped it in your mouth. “The better half.” Spinning away from Armitage, he reached across the island and held you in place. The bread toppled to the floor, bouncing away, collecting dirt on their warpath.

“You ruined my bread,” You looked over your shoulder at Armitage. He let go a second until he could access the other side of the island. Heaving you into his arms, Armitage guided your legs around his waist.

“To Hell with the bread,” He whispered into your lips before kissing you. One hand tightly around your waist, the other tangled in your hair, tugging down to open your mouth. His fingers pressed into your side, forming pleasant indentations.

\---

A discarded line of clothing traced a crooked path to the bed; last being your apron. The potent smell of sweetened ham and vegetables saturated the space.

Armitage lay out on the bed, staring as you read. You leaned against the headboard, reveling in the chilly sting of metal on your back. Sore muscles in your neck stretched as you rolled your head to the side. Holding the book up to the light, you continued reading in hushed tones. It was too quiet in the expanse of space to speak in a normal tone.

“... _ He who seeks to deceive will always find someone who will allow himself to be deceived _ ,” You stopped to look down at Armitage’s reaction to the line. Linen tangled in his fingers as he traced a line up your arm holding the book.

“I’m capable of reading myself,” Armitage’s disheveled hair dropped over his wary eyes. Pushing it away, he ran a hand across his scalp. “Are you certain you are not ill?”

He looked ill, not you. Dark circles ensnared his eyes, exacerbating the deep indentations forming around his eyes from lack of sleep. It painted a ghostly glare over his pale face.

Dropping your book, you scooted down in bed to lay beside him. You thumbed at the dark circles. Reddish veins snaked from the point of contact like a shock of lightning colliding with the parched earth

“Are you certain  _ you _ aren’t ill?”

“Quite confident,” He grabbed the hand exploring his sunken features, kissing it. Every nerve ending ignited at his gentle touch.

“Let me run you a bath,” You kissed down his jawline, landing on his lips. He grumbled in disagreement. “Stop being a contrarian. Let me do this for you.”

“Are you seeking something?” He pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The graze on your skin tickled, sending a pleasant chill through your veins, directly to your thrashing heart. “What is it you want from me? Tell me.”

The dimmed sconces adjacent to your bed struck his face with angled shadows. His expression switched from intrigue to confusion with every passing shadow.   

“You don’t take care of yourself like you should,” You whispered. “So I will.”

“I do not require your doting,” Armitage climbed off the bed, leaving you tangled in linen.

The frigid room became more so without his arms wrapped around you.

Placing your book safely on the stand beside your bed, you followed Armitage to the dark bathroom. The carpet sunk between your toes as you walked barefoot towards him. Remaining tingles from his touch lingered on your fingers, compelling you to reach out and graze him again.

The door to the bathroom swayed on its hinges. Water hit porcelain as Hux turned the spigot of the tub. The rush of water shattered the deafening silence.

You poked your head in, smiling sadly as Armitage leaned over the tub, hands against the wall, breathing deeply. Muscles in his shoulders tensed and relaxed with each haggard breath. The mural of scars across his back shone bright as a moon in the faded light. If he connected each scar across his body, the line could encircle a planet. It was striking and devastating.

Everything ached from head to toe, heart to soul. Seeing Armitage in agony sent visceral spikes of pain through you. Like an arrow pushing through a needle, stuck in limbo, forever in anguish.

“Love?” You wrapped your arms over your stomach. The frigid tile bit at your toes as you padded to his side. Armitage scowled down at the filling tub. Deep in thought, he ignored your approach. “Let me.”

With a curt nod, he turned away, waiting for the tub to fill. As the water fell, you turned to wrap your arms around his waist. Resting your head against his scarred back, you whispered soothing nothings into his skin.

When his breathing slowed, you guided him carefully to the bath.

“Join me?” You tugged softly at his hand, encouraging him to step in.

He pushed your hands away and climbed into the bath. Holding the sides, he sank down. The water swayed with each movement he made, sinking and rising.

Armitage looked up at you. His arms lay sprawled across the sides of the bath. “Join me.”

You smiled to yourself and crawled in front of him. Nestling into his chest you sighed at the refreshing warmth of the water.

Wet tendrils of hair clung to his chest. His long legs wrapped around you and his wandering hands found your waist. Armitage ran his fingers across your stomach and back lazily. His knees weren’t fully submerged so you held a hand over his leg, letting water tumble from your fingers down to his skin to keep him warm.

“Why are you doing this?” Armitage said into your shoulder. “I do not understand.”

You hummed and leaned back into his chest, perfectly content.

“Because I love and adore you.”  


End file.
